Sixth Senses
by The Queen Of Mischief
Summary: How many sixth senses can a person have? Honestly. Bones and Booth in a car. Arguments will ensue. How will it all turn out in the end? Has fluff, but not EXTREME fluff. Involves Robert Frost, psychology and some delicious pie! R&R! one shot


**Chapter 1**

"Booth! We're lost!" said Dr. Temperance Brenan. Why couldn't he just say it? They were in a small town in Iowa, working a case. The police had asked for them specifically.

"Bones. We're not lost. Trust me."

"We passed that tree six times!"

"They're _trees,_ Bones! They all look like _trees!_"

"I'm a forensic anthropologist, Booth."

"So? You study bones, not trees!"

"I can tell these things! That tree has a very distinct knot in its trunk about four inches off the ground! Plus, it's angled at 25 degrees, unlike all the other trees! The probability of there being another tree exactly like that one is one in a million! On a rough scale, that is. I could be more specific… but I don't think you would appreciate that very much."

"Thank you, Bones." Sarcasm dripped. "Now if you're done staring at trees and giving me oral reports on them, I would like to concentrate on _driving_."

Brenan was puzzled. "But what's the point of driving, when you don't know where you're going?"

"I know where I'm going."

"No, you don't. Because if you did, we wouldn't have seen that tree so many times already!"

He clutched his steering wheel, knuckles turning white. This was part of the reason why he disliked Bones. But that feeling was vastly overruled by its opposite. It was also a part of the reason why he _liked_ Bones so much. She had opinions. And voiced them.

Granted, most of them were difficult to comprehend by the average human being, but still. At least she wasn't like those quiet, meek little girly girls who sat around, their hands folded in their laps, speaking only when spoken to.

Time to bring in psychology. Or philosophy. Whatever you wanted to call it. "Robert Frost said 'Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference'. I'm taking the road less travelled by, Bones. Gimme a break."

"You're taking that out of context!"

"How so? It's completely in context. This is a quiet, small place, like a wood, and there are many roads, but I'm taking the one that most people don't. And that will get us where we want to go faster!"

"It is out of context because in that same poem, which I hate, by the way, Mr. Frost said 'be one traveler, long I stood'. He was alone! You're not alone! You have me. And I'm telling you you're lost."

"The fact that he's alone means nothing in relation to what we're talking about. It's the fact that there are two ways, your way, or my way, and I'm going my way, which is in fact, the road less travelled!"

"That psychologist is really getting to you in therapy, isn't he?" she commented drily.

"It's not THERAPY. I was free to leave, but I go there just to VISIT." He was really pissed now. "Why do you keep calling it therapy? Do you know how angry that makes me?"

Silence. For once, Bones had nothing to say.

"What, the great, almighty Dr. Brenan, nothing to say? Shock, horror! No witty remark, to put me down, insult my intelligence, something? I may not be as smart as you Brenan. But I sure as hell ain't dumb."

Silence.

Silence.

"I…I'm--" he had never called her Brenan so many times in a row. Time to back down and apologize. And she sincerely felt guilty. She had been going at him pretty hard about the therapy thing. "I'm sorry, Booth. I… I didn't know it would upset you so much… I—"

She was cut off by him shaking his head, an incredulous look on his face. "You know what, Brenan," again, Brenan. She was kind of scared now. "you think you can just… stop talking? Can you manage that?"

She said nothing.

He swerved the car. She jumped. What are you doing? Was what she was about to ask, before she remembered the no talking rule.

It was a diner. Why was he stopping there? She wondered, literally having to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking.

He parked the car and removed his seat belt. A few seconds passed. He appeared to be counting to ten in his head. He opened the door. Got out. Started walking. Her mind was overflowing with questions.

Ten minutes passed. Was he abandoning her? She supposed she had pushed it, but leaving her there seemed a bit drastic.

She was unnaturally relieved when she saw him emerge. Of course he wouldn't leave her. He was Booth. He wasn't like that. He was sweet, and nice, even though he wouldn't tell anyone that.

He sat in the car before she could further analyze him. There was silence. Booth seemed to be looking somewhat guilty. Sheepishly, he held out a Styrofoam cup and a small box and said "I got you coffee. And pie."

She smiled. "Thanks, Booth." He still wasn't looking at her.

Finally, he slowly turned his head. "You're welcome."

She put her cup in the holder and the box in her lap. She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I really am sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry, too, Bones." He squeezed back.

Bones! He'd called her Bones! Resisting the urge to drop everything and hug him, she smiled.

There was a short pause. "And, to put your mind at ease," he added with a small teasing smile, "I got you a map. Now you can read it as much as you want. Happy?"

She laughed. "Very happy."

She opened the map and pored over it for a few moments. "But Booth, this says that you were right all along!"

"I knew it." He smiled triumphantly. "What'd I tell you? I have a sixth sense, Bones!"

She rolled her eyes. "How many sixth senses can a person have?"

"When it comes to me?" he asked, smirking.

She whacked his shoulder lightly. "Want some pie?" she asked, holding out a forkful. Keeping his eyes on the road, he accepted.

"Thanks," he mumbled, mouth full of pie.

--

When they finally reached their crime scene, Brenan got out of the car faster than Booth, and before he could go over to the crime scene in front of everyone, she hugged him.

He stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed, and hugged back.

"Good to have you back, Booth. Even those stupid sixth senses."


End file.
